


Not His Problem

by Python07



Series: If Looks Could Kill [8]
Category: Forever (TV), The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Crack Crossover, Louis is a moron, M/M, spoilers for ep 2.2: An Ordinary Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 13:21:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7716325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Python07/pseuds/Python07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aurelian is done with Louis and his court.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not His Problem

**Author's Note:**

> Dialogue borrowed from ep 2.2: An Ordinary Man marked w/*

Aurelian paused to take in the scene in the throne room. He counted the King, the hypocrite and his four favorites, Rochefort (there was something off about him too but shortly it wouldn’t be his problem), another scruffy man, and two red guards. He was about to quietly back out again when Louis caught sight of him.

Louis smiled widely. “Sextus.”

Aurelian bowed. “Forgive the intrusion, Majesty,” he said politely. “I can see that you’re busy.”

Louis held a hand up. “No, please, stay. We shall be finished shortly. Then, you and I can talk.”

Aurelian inclined his head. He kept out of the way. He chose a vantage point near the wall, where he could see all the actors in this little drama and the entrance to the throne room.

Louis turned his attention back to the musketeers. He regarded them coolly for a long moment. “d’Artagnan.*”

d’Artagnan stepped forward. He stood before the King, respectfully, head held high. He waited, quietly and expectantly.

Louis clasped his hands behind his back. “Your bravery and loyalty during our ordeal deserves recognition,” he said formally. “I have a special gift for you.*”

Aurelian pursed his lips. The King didn’t look like someone about to bestow a harmless, impractical gift. He looked like a man about to demand something he knew that d’Artagnan would balk at, giving the right to Louis to be the offended party.

Aurelian sighed. It was childish but Louis wouldn’t be the first monarch to engage in such behavior. Such things could be dealt with, but it required a firm hand from a trusted source. It wasn’t his place. If Lucius were here…

Aurelian tried not to let out a loud bored sigh. If Lucius were here, the whole unfortunate escapade would never have happened. The King pretending to be a peasant just to go to a tavern to get drunk and get his bodyguards into fights. It was a childish folly and he had to wonder if anyone in Louis’ private circle had the strength to guide him when he was tempted to indulge in stupidity. Thankfully, something else that would shortly not be Aurelian’s problem. Or Lucius’. His cousin had done more than enough for these ungrateful people.

Louis continued gravely, “You have the honor of executing this traitor.*”

The two red guards grabbed the scruffy man by the arms. “But you promised me clemency!*” the man protested.

Louis regarded the man as he would a stain on the rug. “Which I am granting. A quick death, more than you deserve.*”

Aurelian couldn’t say that he was surprised. He knew that men in power could be very flexible when it came to keeping their word. It was doubly true for a man like Louis.

“No, no, sire. Please, please!*” the man begged without shame.

d’Artagnan bowed his head. “This man fought to protect you,*” he said quietly.

Louis didn’t take his eyes off the man. His voice dripped with disdain. “He did it to save his own neck. Which you will now sever,*” he told d’Artagnan.

“You gave him your word!*” d’Artagnan protested. He still kept his voice low and respectful, with only a hint of an edge.

Louis turned the venom onto d’Artagnan. “Are you taking sides with a traitor against your king?*”

Aurelian folded his arms across his chest. Court life was always so predictable. Sometimes, great men and statesmen came along, like Gaius and Octavian, like Marcus Aurelius and Constantine, like Charlemagne, or like Saladin and Tokugawa Ieyasu. However, for every great man, there was an untold number of fools.

d’Artagnan didn’t answer. He didn’t avert his gaze either. The rest of the musketeers watched in grim silence.

Aurelian watched Louis watch the musketeers. He saw Louis’ expression grow ever more thunderous. He couldn’t help thinking that if looks could kill, the whole line of them would be stone dead.

d’Artagnan glanced at Treville, who made no move to interfere. “I am a soldier…” he finally said. He turned his attention back to Louis. “…not an executioner.*” With that, he bowed and stepped back.

“Allow me, your Majesty.*” Rochefort strode forward, drew his sword, and ran the man through.

The man gurgled and died, choking on his own blood.

Aurelian tilted his head to the side as Rochefort took the spot at Louis’ side. So, Rochefort wasn’t squeamish in shedding blood. Neither was he. Still, there was something about Rochefort, something that made his nose itch, something that made every instinct from 1600 years of life take notice. 

Louis didn’t take his eyes off the musketeers. “Thank you, Rochefort. That was well done. At least I have one loyal soldier*”

If Aurelian didn’t know it before, he was now convinced that Louis had the common sense of a wet lump of clay. The musketeers, their captain included, couldn’t see past the concept of their own honor and duty, but their loyalty should’ve been beyond question. Louis would rue the day he let that jackal get close to him. Of that, Aurelian was sure. Thankfully, it still wasn’t his problem.

Louis stepped up to the musketeers and slowly walked down the line. He spared a second to look each of them up and down. His lip curled up in a sneer as he obviously found them wanting. He spoke with offended dignity. “First, you take me to that tavern, put my life in danger and now this.” He stopped in front of Treville. “Why do you musketeers insist on disappointing me?*”

//Speak now or lose more of your position, you fool.// Aurelian wondered how the hell Treville had managed to keep his position for so long. The man seemed to be satisfied being Louis’ dog, even if it meant getting a kick to the teeth. Rochefort was going to eat him alive. It was another on the growing list of court dysfunctions that were not his problem.

Louis whirled away from Treville. He waved to Aurelian. “Come, Sextus. Enough with this unpleasantness.”

Aurelian hurried to catch up. He saw the tension evident in every line in Louis’ body. He kept one step behind Louis.

Louis angrily stalked through the halls of the Louvre. Servants and maids jumped out of his way and bowed deeply. He took no notice of them.

Aurelian followed Louis outside into the gardens. He glanced up at the storm clouds rapidly moving in. The scent of rain was heavy in the air. One end of his mouth quirked up. //The perfect setting for the next act in this melodrama.//

Louis glared at the sky. He found a bench and sat on it, back straight. He looked up and jutted his chin out, as if daring it to rain.

Aurelian stood a few feet away. He kept his hands folded before him and his head down. He waited for Louis to speak.

Louis suddenly wrung his hands. “Sextus,” he cried anxiously.

“Sire?” Aurelian asked mildly.

Louis bit his bottom lip and again he was the overgrown boy. “I was correct in condemning that man to death, wasn’t I? He betrayed me, his own King.”

“You’re the King. Your word is law,” Aurelian answered flatly.

Louis flapped his hands. “No, I don’t want the proper court etiquette answer.” He chewed on his bottom lip. “I want to know what you think. Truly.”

//No, you don’t. You want me to hold your hand and tell you everything is okay.// And Aurelian could do that (for a short time at least, he was almost at his limit dealing with self entitled behavior). He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You must act as you see fit. Besides, a threat to you cannot be tolerated.”

Louis let out a shaky breath. “That musketeer implied I acted without honor.”

Aurelian waved that off. “He’s a young hothead. I don’t doubt his abilities as a fighter, but his sensibilities are very cut and dried. He doesn’t understand that, as King, you must make unpleasant decisions.”

Louis looked away wistfully. “Things were so much easier when Armand was here.”

//Of course. He kept you from the worst of your stupidity and took the difficult decisions onto himself.// Aurelian forced a sympathetic smile. “He’s gone, Majesty. You must learn to govern without him.”

Louis blinked and looked at Aurelian. “Of course,” he agreed, subdued.

“I am sorry to have to bring this up now,” Aurelian said carefully. He bowed. “But I have a humble request to make of you, your Majesty.”

Louis’ brow furrowed. “What is it?”

“I ask your leave to return home. I received a letter from my abbot. He chides me for staying away so long and shirking my duties to God and the order,” Aurelian lied smoothly, with a wry smile.

Louis shook his head. “No.”

“Sire,” Aurelian tried. “The letter was very clear.”

“No,” Louis repeated stubbornly. He jumped to his feet. “You may tell your abbot that you have duties to me now. I rule by divine right. You can serve God through serving me.” 

Aurelian swallowed. “But, Sire,” he said softly. “I’m no courtier or politician. I’m a simple priest. I have no place here.”

“You are my last link to Armand,” Louis said fiercely. 

Aurelian stared at Louis in shock. 

Louis shut his eyes. He took a few deep breaths. The tension in his body eased some but didn’t dissipate completely. Then he opened his eyes and offered Aurelian a gentle look. “You will not leave me.” He took Aurelian’s arm. “All will be well. I only ask that you be yourself.”

Aurelian resisted the urge to jerk away or run a hand through his hair in agitation. He inclined his head as if this was a great honor instead while he cursed in Latin in his mind. //Faex!//

**Author's Note:**

> Faex means shit.


End file.
